


My Last Choice

by Zaccari



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaccari/pseuds/Zaccari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unlike every other man Phil's ever met, wedding's make Bozie cuddly and horny. Being drunk makes him worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Last Choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AshesandGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesandGhost/gifts).



> Beta'ed by the lovely Axis2ClusterB. But I fiddled, I always do, so any remaining mistakes are mine. 
> 
> This is completely made up, I know this, you know this, and if you sue me, all you're gonna do is take my debt of my hands.
> 
> There's also a little hand waving, because I have zero idea where Phil was at this point in time.

~Phil’s POV~

You know, I could kill the idiot that let Bozie set his own ringtone on my phone. 

Oh, wait, that would be the world’s biggest sucker. Me.

Nevermind.

Even if waking up from a dead sleep to Miley singing, well, something is a special kind of hell, I haven’t won a cup yet, so taking to my ear drums with an ice pick will have to wait until next off season. What it doesn't stop me from doing is slapping at my phone until the goddamn noise stops though, and as I finally grab it and blink the screen into focus, I’m kind of surprised to see I haven’t hung up on the idiot that should be too busy to call me.

“For fuck’s sake, Bozie, do you know what time it is?”

“It’s not that late, Philly.”

Oh jesus. He’s drunk.

“It’s late enough, Bozak, because I’m the one who has the baby sister that still sets her internal clock by the sun.”

“I like Amanda Mandy Manda.”

Yep, so drunk.

“That’s great. Don’t you have a dozen DU buddies you could be doing your ‘I’m a limpet and I’m okay’ routine with right about now?”

God knows it’s all I heard about for months. The boys. The guys. The stories. Me wondering how Bozie got out of DU days without being permanently brain damaged from alcohol. Yes, I’m man enough to admit I was jealous, there’s also the thing where I didn't have the balls to turn up with him as his plus one.

So, Bozie - Denver, Me - Madison.

“Pauly’s busy being a groom. That fucking Swede is making goo goo eyes at EJ, and don’t make me talk fishing with Duchene any more.”

Drunk Bozie whines. A lot.

“You like fishing.”

“That’s different, it’s with you. It’s quiet, but you talk and let me blow you when I’m bored as long as I don’t tip us into the lake.”

Which reminds me, he still owes me a new pole since my favourite is at the bottom of some damn lake in Saskatchewan. 

I am so not awake.

“Why are you calling, Bozie?”

“I miss my Philly, you should be here. I wanna hold your hand.”

If he starts singing, I’m hanging up. There’s nobody on this planet that loves Bozie enough to put up with his singing, up to and including his mom.

“Well, I’m not there, so just because you’re drunk, I have to wake up and do what exactly?”

“C’mon, buddy, you know.”

And instantly I do. As soon as I hear his pathetic attempt at a come hither voice, I remember Dion’s wedding, the champagne bottle, and the room off the main hallway with the door that wouldn't shut properly, let alone lock.

See, Bozie’s not like any other homosapien with an XY chromosome on the planet. Weddings make him cuddly and horny. Being drunk makes him worse.

Way to go, Kessel, because I am totally missing out on some seriously good ass right now. And there are no words yet invented that fully convey how bad I am at phone sex. 

Last time...well, how do you think Bozie fucked his hamstring?

“I know, buddy, but c’mon, knowing you you’re in the middle of the fucking ballroom, next to some hall of famer when you whip it out. Then you’ll proceed to write off yourself and take out half of the damn Avalanche. I’m scared of Roy, Bozie.”

Any sane person is.

“He’s not here, dipshit, and I’m outside, in the rose garden, far, far away from allllll the people. C’mon, Phil, you know me, you know what happy and booze does to me. You should be here, you wouldn't even have to do anything, just stand there and let me rub against your ass, that’d do me. Fuck me, would it ever.”

Stella growls as I accidentally kick her when I roll to my side. There’s nobody in my house but me, and I’m still checking the door is shut before turning my back to it. I’m a grown man, really.

“Why can’t you be like any other single man at a wedding and want to bone the hot bridesmaid?”

“Not fucking single and you don’t have the ankles to get away with a cocktail length gown.”

Just for the record, Bozie does a vaguely outraged gruff voice a whole lot better than he does any kind of sexy. But I refuse to be that easy.

“Fuck you.”

“You could if you were fucking here, Phil! But you’re not and people are going to come looking for me soon. C’mon, Phil, I’m so fucking horny, working on being completely hard, and I need to get off.”

I’m nowhere near that worked up, but, I could be. Maybe. My dick’s still thinking about it.

“You know how fucking bad I am at this shit, can’t you just jerk off and imagine...some weird and wonderful spank bank thing I’m better off not knowing about?”

It should surprise exactly nobody I’m vanilla and Bozie is banana split with all the toppings and extra whipped cream.

“Jesus, Phil, maybe one of the bridesmaids would be less high maintenance. Yes I could just jerk off, but I don’t wanna, not without you. And I know you suck talking about sex, whether a phone is involved or not. But I've spent all day watching a good friend marry the love of his life, and that does it for me. So I've had too much to drink, though you and the fucking cold out here means I’m not as drunk as I was, and I wanna listen to you fail at dirty talk while I rub one out because I’m stupid enough to love you as much as Pauly loves Haley.”

He’s all huffy now, and cute. And no, even I’m not stupid enough to say that out loud.

“After all that you’re still hard?”

“Yes!”

I think I covered the laugh with a snort, and since Bozie hasn't hung up or screamed ‘fuck you’ at me, I guess I succeeded. 

“You owe me for this, Bozie.”

“I’ll rim you until you cry when I get back to Madison or Toronto, but please, Phil, do you wanna hear me beg?”

No. Never.

“Find somewhere to sit down, buddy, if you try this standing up knowing my luck you’ll break a neck or lung or something.”

My free hand is rubbing at my cock, but I don’t think it’ll accomplish much. This is more a Bozie wants me, wants this, thing. I’ll enjoy it, maybe jerk off to it tomorrow if nobody dies, but tonight, it just kind of feels kind of good and all I want to do is make Bozie feel better.

“I found a bench, bud, I’m all seated and waiting.”

And I’m all comfortable and lazy, curled on my side, wishing you were pressed against my back.

“I...I’m not telling you what I want to do, because I’d just be saying stupid shit...but, after my run yesterday, I, ahhh, you’d left that message for me, telling me about golf of all stupid things, and I missed you.”

“Ye-eah?”

Seriously, weddings and beer and a stiff breeze could get Bozie off. I’m not taking it personally though.

“Yeah. You are coming here soon, right?”

“Sure am, buddy, remember? Rimming you until you cry? You’d like my dick if you could see it now, Phil, just poking out of my dress pants, all hard, red and wet at the tip, it’ll be dripping soon. What happened after your run, Phil? Gonna tell me?”

Yeah, Bozie doesn't suck at phone sex.

“Like I said, I was missing you, and I started thinking about that last night you were in Toronto. Remember? With the clusterfuck of a season done we could do anything we wanted. So I just....laid down and let you have whatever you wanted. You did shit to me that night that I didn't know was possible. So, in the shower, I thought about it, and I got so hard, Bozie.”

My cock’s a little more interested now, but I know Bozie, and I can tell from the hitching breaths that aren't drowning out the sound of skin on skin friction there’s no way I’ll be completely invested before Bozie’s coming.

“Yeah, d-did you? Fuck I love the sound of that, Phil, you jerking off in the shower, thinking about me edging you time and t-time again...fuck yeah, that sounds so good. I can do that again, right? B-before the season...oh fuck, yeah. Tell me, Phil…”

“Sure, Bozie, I’ll spread myself on our bed and you can just have your fucking way with everything about me, do you like that? I do. I did. I decorated the tiles in my shower with come just thinking it about. You would have loved it, Bozie, all over the tiles, me, you would have-”

“Fuck!”

And there he goes. Hopefully there was nobody too close.

My hand stops the little movement it was making as I listen to Bozie pant and try to catch his breath. He sounds good.

And I really wish he was here with me and Stella.

“That’s what I needed, Phil.”

“Tell me you aren't going back into Statsny’s wedding with come everywhere.”

“Nope, it’s all over the rose bush in front of me.”

Jesus Christ. Maybe I don’t miss him that much after all.

Yeah, right.

“You’re a class act, Bozak.”

“And you’re really fucking bad at phone sex, Kessel. You didn't even try to come, did you?”

I can uncurl now, moving on to my back, careful this time not to disturb my pup.

“Nah, I’m good. This is was for you, I’ll get plenty of quality time later.”

Bozie’s laugh is soft and easy and yeah, forget me being there, he should be here.

“Yeah, you will. Now, though, I should be getting back.”

“You should. And I’m gonna try to go back to sleep.”

“Please, you’ll be asleep before I’m back in the ballroom.”

He’s not wrong, I’m already fighting a yawn.

“Go back to the wedding, drink some more, try not to puke on anybody and I’ll talk to you soon, Boz.”

“Hey, Phil?”

“Hmmmm?”

My eyes are shut, hell anybody would think I’m the one that was orgasm stupid, but Bozie will be on the go for hours yet.

“Cankles or not, I love you.”

“Yeah, fuck you too, but, right back at ya, bud.” 

He’s still laughing when I hang up, asshole.

But he’s my asshole. Who has a thing for weddings.

I’d say something about keeping him, but that would imply I have a choice. 

Choosing Bozie was the last choice I had. I made a good one.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for AshesandGhost with their prompt of Phil/Bozie - phone sex. Hopefully this hit the mark and you enjoy it!


End file.
